


That moment when your brother dies and only you can see him

by 36CornDogss



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Family Dynamics, Gen, Medium Tubbo, Trauma, Tubbo Can See Ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/36CornDogss/pseuds/36CornDogss
Summary: Tubbo has always been able to see the dead, but it wasnt a real problem until both his brother and worst enemy die.Yeah its just a Tubbo can see ghosts fic uh heavy inspo from YUTS (iykyk)
Relationships: Familial, None
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	That moment when your brother dies and only you can see him

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi just wanted to say a quick note, this is a GEN fic, im not about to ship minors ew, um yeah I not one of those people thats like "ew shipping real people wtf", ill probably write ship fics for this fandom, but yeah minors in shipping is a cringe moment not gonna lie, so please dont do that

For as long as he could remember, Tubbo could interact with the dead. It wasn't like it was that big of a deal, but it was very confusing for him as a child when people would walk through each other. Was there a code for who could walk through who? 

Oh well. 

Maybe that's why his parents abandoned him…

Ah well.

Anyways, ever since he figured out that the intangible people were dead people, he had made sure that nobody would ever know. As far as he knew, nobody else had his ability. So when he was taken in by Wilbur and the rest of L’Manberg, he continued to keep it to himself. After all, everyone he had ever told had either not believed him or figured him to be some sort of witch or demon or something. 

He figured he didn't want one of those reactions from his new friends. And really, he didn't run into any problems. He was pretty well known in the ghost community; after all, he had helped so many ghosts pass on.

That was another thing. It turns out many of the ghosts he came across had something they needed to do. Usually it was things like making sure their house was locked, or even finding something they were missing, and Tubbo usually never hesitated to help them out, allowing them to pass on to whatever was next. Other ones didn't need his help; these were the ones that had a different task to do before they passed, usually keeping an eye on a loved one, or traveling to the one place they didn't get to. 

But because L’Manberg was such a new city, having just won its independence from the Dream SMP, there were almost no ghosts. Tubbo practically didn't need to put any work into keeping up the illusion of normalcy. 

He should have known that wouldn't last much longer.

The final day. The final battle. Tubbo was.. Nervous. First of all it was going to be a big day. After almost six months of being under the tight grip of President JSchlatt, he was ready for revenge. 

And in the moment that the dictator died, Tubbo realized his mistake. He was stuck with the man who had tormented him for so long. Forever.

In that instant, he made a decision. He would ignore him. This was the best choice for him after all. It wasn't like he was helping any other ghosts at this point, and he could just have some of his ghost friends in the Dream SMP to spread the word that if ghosts needed his help, they would need to come to him at night or when he's alone

Yes, this was the best option

So when Wilbur died, he had to make a choice. Whether to talk to them or ignore them. ignoring them would free Tubbo of his ghostly chains, and he could probably start to recover from his trauma from his time with Schlatt, although he wouldn't be there for Wilbur, who he no doubt would be devastated that he couldn't pass on.

But no matter how much Wilbur was like family to him, Tubbo couldn't imagine a life with Schlatt forever haunting him.

Hearing Wilburs cries as he realized he would never be able to talk to Tommy or anyone else ever again hurt, but he had to endure it.

Two days after the battle, Tubbo got up to go for a midnight walk. 

Passing Quackity’s house, he walked the path down to the lake, grabbing a bench from some storage room and putting it so that he could see the moon and the lake. 

Wilbur was more confused than anything. He knew he was dead, and he knew that he would never be able to talk to his family again, but he really didn't remember much else. How he died? Nothing. What happened between the election and him dying? Nothing. He remembers himself winning, so maybe he had been assassinated? Nobody was mad at anyone else so maybe it was while he was sleeping. Maybe.

Either way it still didn't make sense because Tubbo was president, not Tommy. Why? Questions, questions. 

Times like this though, he could forget about what he didnt know. 

Tubbo had pulled out a bench from one of their new storage shacks, and was sitting on it by the lake, looking at the moon. 

Wilbur smiled softly, and sat next to the boy president. Tubbo quickly glanced to where he was sitting, but glanced back just as quick. Wilbur narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and looking at Tubbo’s face. It was impossible for him to talk to any of his previous friends… Right? 

“Can you… Hear me?” Wilbur asked, to which he got no response, only Tubbo continuing to look up at the stars. “Tubbo I saw you glance at me, you can hear me can't you?” Still no response. Wilbur got a bit sad. “Tubbo why are you ignoring me?” Wilbur was standing now, in front of Tubbo, so that Tubbo was looking right into his eyes, but Tubbo was unwavering, looking relaxed as ever. “Tubo please talk to me, I have nobody else,” Nothing. 

Wilbur huffed, but sat back down next to the boy. He had been so full of hope that someone was able to hear him, but no. of course not. Maybe Wilbur had been such a bad president that this was his punishment. 

Wilbur locked his elbows, gripping the front edge of the bench, and lowered his head, beginning to cry, somehow. How did ghosts cry anyways? Ah well. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. He didn't look up, but his tears stopped coming. Because he felt it. The first physical contact he had felt in two days. 

Slowly, Wilbur looked over to his right, to see Tubbos index finger resting on his pinkie. Then, as quickly as he had felt it, it was gone. Tubbo stood up, and as he turned around to pick up the bench, he made direct eye contact. Like, actual eye contact. 

Wilburs eyes widened. So he was right then. Tubbo could hear and see him, but obviously he was trying to keep it a secret. From who Wilbur had no idea, after all it was the middle of the night, who could possibly be watching-

Ah, of course. A ways away, the man himself, JSchlatt was hidden half behind a wall. It all connected now. Tubbo was keeping his ability secret from Schlatt, who now that Wilbur thought about it, was seen pretty much wherever Tubbo was. 

Tubbo smiled as he brought the bench back to the storage shack.

The next day, Tubbo observed that Wilbur was trailing behind him instead of wandering around like he usually did. 

Tubbo smiled widely as Wilbur continued to follow him into his office. It was really just a bunker designed to allow him to work in safety. Nobody had protested when he said that he was still traumatized from the festival and the battle. 

Tubbo unfolds another chair which was hanging on the wall. Wilbur sits down. Nothing is said for a while.

Finally, Tubbo couldnt take it.

“Hi Wilbur”

“Hi Tubbo”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, I have another chapter planned and I might go on beyond that as well. um yeah if you have any requests for other fics Id love to hear them, I really want to start writing more!
> 
> oh yeah and uh im not gonna delete this fic if cc's find it (COUGH COUGH) (/j) but like, have some decency, dear god.


End file.
